


Code of Silence

by josiec



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: Gen, Immortal Fake AH Crew, a lot of other characters too
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-13
Updated: 2017-01-19
Packaged: 2018-08-14 21:57:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 9
Words: 20,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8030308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/josiec/pseuds/josiec
Summary: Geoff Ramsey wants to pull off a heist. To pull off a heist, you need a crew. So, naturally, he pulls the first five idiots he meets in. Through sheer force of dumb luck, they manage to make history in a completely unexpected way.





	1. First Impressions

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to take a more literal look at the FAHC, and make the FAHC timeline analogous to the general timeline of Achievement Hunter and their heists series. It's my first fic, so, please, be nice.

“Look, I’m just saying, it’s easy money!”

“Easy? Doesn’t fuckin’ sound easy, Geoff!”

“This city’s full of crime, the cops are lazy as dicks. I’m telling you, we could cash in, Burnie!”

“You know what? I’m not in. But I’ll give you a bit of cash. You get a crew. You get equipment. You take the score. You’re going to pay me back, if you survive. If you wanna become the goddamn heist lord of Los Santos, then you go on ahead.”

The conversation was still ringing in Geoff’s ears as he approached the bar he’d set up at a meeting place. The goddamn heist lord of Lost Santos was exactly what he wanted to be. So he went on the internet and started by hiring the most essential part of any heist crew. The driver he had found wasn’t even just a driver. She was also a pilot, cat lover, and an aspiring filmmaker. Her name was Jacqueline, and meeting her would be the beginning of where Geoff’s life went pear-shaped.

He'd dressed up a bit for the occasion: a black suit, bowtie, and white sneakers, because he had never bought black dress shoes, and they matched the monochrome outfit. Jacqueline, on the other hand, had not dressed up. When Geoff first saw her, she sported a hawaiian shirt, of all things. Adding to her generally carefree look was a similar pair of white sneakers and white shorts. She sat at the bar with a tall, foamy mug of beer that she had just started to get into. Geoff let out a bit of a sigh and sat next to her.

“You Jacqueline Patillo?” He motioned for the bartender to get him a bottle.

“I don’t know why you’re asking. Aren’t crime bosses supposed to run background checks?” she quipped, taking a swig.

“Hey, shut up! I’m still figuring this thing out.”

“Well, it’s nice to meet you in person. Where’s the rest of your crew?”

“Haven’t hired them yet,” admitted Geoff.

“Goddamn. You went for the driver first? Idiot.”

“Hey, I was just thinking you and I knock over a convenience store to get some funds, then we get the rest of the team.”

“That’s fucking stupid.”

“Well you come up with something-”

“I’m in.”

Geoff spit out the mouthful of beer he had just drank.

“What the fuck? Really?”

“Yeah, seems like a good time. You gotta watch out though, some of the convenience stores in this town have cop plants. Tell you what: we should get together a full crew and hit the 24/7 store right near that hands-on car wash. Friend of mine says that it funnels money straight to the military and their experiments.” As she spoke, she swirled the beer around in her mug.

“You know, that’s just stupid enough to be true,” Geoff remarked. “Tell me, Jacqueline, how many people do you think it’ll take to knock the place over?”

“Six oughta do it.” She took a sip and gave him a sideways glance. “Call me Jack.”

“Fine, Jack, whatever.” Geoff drained his beer and grumbled. “Four more people.. Where the hell am I gonna get four more people?”

It was later, sitting in his apartment, when he found his next crew member. Or, rather, where Burnie came to him with his next crew member. The door to his apartment flung open and Burnie strode in with a grin.

“Hey, dickhead,” he greeted.

“What do you want?” Geoff looked up from the bottle he was nursing.

“I feel bad about throwing you into the criminal world of Los Santos without a paddle, so here’s your paddle. I found you your first crew member!”

“I found a driver earlier today.”

“Well good, cause this asshole doesn’t know how to drive.” Burnie grinned, glancing back at the door. “Hey, Gav, c’mon in.”

A very punchable face peeked out from the door. The face’s mouth hung ever so slightly and annoyingly open. The figure the face belonged to had a blue button down shirt and… was that a parachute?

And just like that, Gavin Free walked into Geoff’s life. If meeting Jack was where Geoff’s life started to go pear-shaped, meeting Gavin was where the pear exploded.

“Who the fuck is this?” Geoff motioned to the new face. Burnie just waved and left. “Asshole. Who the fuck are you?” His contempt was now directed right at Gavin, causing the younger man to stammer.

“W-well, I, uh, B-Burnie said you were going to heist-schwa some... stuff, and, uh, I’m a bit low on the munz at the moment so I figured I could come along w-with you as one of those bippy dudes for a small cut of the gib,” he managed to get out, revealing his moderately thick British accent. Geoff just stared at him for a few seconds.

“What… the fuck… did you just say?”

“Wha? Did I say something offensive?”

“I have no fucking clue. Were those words?”

“Of course they were, you thick tosser!”

“I can’t believe I already hate you.” Geoff shook his head.

“So are we gonna rob somethin’ or not?”

“You got any special skills?”

“Well, I’m British. That usually throws people for a loop.”

“Great. You’re on confusion tactics.”

Gavin tried to argue, but Geoff was having none of it. He was already thinking about the remaining three people he’d have to find.

The next crew member came in two days later. Gavin, Jack, and Geoff had met up at the bar to do a bit of discussion about the plan. In the middle of one of Gavin’s fake British words, the door to the back room burst open and a young man with a wolf on his jacket tumbled out. He got to his feet quickly and balled his fist, throwing a haymaker into the face of the man who followed him out. The man fell backwards into another man who was coming out. Both were shoved aside by a woman who, without hesitation, tried to shove the first man back down. The curly-haired man stumbled but didn’t fall, angrily shouting.

“Come on, come on! I’ll take all you bastards on, right here, right now!” the man cried out, using a balled up fist to wipe some of the blood that was coming out of his nose off. The two men and the woman he was fighting laughed a bit and closed in on him. Before anyone else, including the man, could react, Gavin was off his stool and charging at the three-on-one fight.

“Michael, boi, I’ll save you!” he yelled and dove to tackle the woman. Like Moses parting the waters, everyone in the fight stepped to each side: the one who was presumably Michael and one of the other men on one side, and the woman and the other man on the other. Gavin hit the floor like a woefully underprepared but extremely determined man on an urgent mission to the center of the earth. The man who stood across from Michael reacted by reaching down to lift Gavin up and punch him in the stomach.

“Gavin, what the fuck? Why are you… Fuck it, I don’t care.” Michael turned and drove his fist into the adjacent man’s gut. By this point, Jack and Geoff had shared multiple disbelieving looks and were off their stools to try and interfere. While Gavin was struggling against the man who was repeatedly punching him, Michael shoved the other man to the ground and used his fingers to make a quick whistle.

From among the onlookers at the bar, one woman quickly got up and drew a pistol from her jacket, running over.

“Hands off the idiot!” shouted the woman, switching her aim between the three fighting Michael and Gavin. A slightly larger man also got up and drew a gun, stumbling clumsily over and waving it around at just about everyone involved. He slurred something out that sounded vaguely like ‘get your hands in the air.’ Again, Geoff and Jack exchanged a look as the new woman and the clumsy man made the others release Gavin and retreat into the back room. Gavin stood up straight and wiped some sweat off his brow.

“Thanks for the save, boi.” He patted Michael’s shoulder. Michael grumbled and crossed his arms.

“Fuck, dude, we should probably get out of here. I bet you they’ve got some firepower back there. Andy, Lindsay, good job with the backup.” The clumsy man and the woman with the gun nodded. Geoff stepped forward.

“Hey, if you guys are interested, I'm putting together a score,” he offered, motioning to Gavin. “Gav’s already in.”

“When is it?” asked Lindsay as she holstered her pistol.

“Dunno, probably next week.” Geoff shrugged a bit.

“Ah, I can’t. Gotta help my mom clean,” replied Andy.

“I’ll sit this one out.” Lindsay said. “Although, if you need help setting up vehicles or getting weapons, I can probably do that.

“Fuck it, I’m in.” Michael affirmed.

“Alright, that’s four. We need two more.” Geoff rubbed his chin and thought about anywhere they might be able to find two more criminals. This was Los Santos, it couldn’t be hard. Michael glanced up, an idea striking him.

“You got a sniper? I know a sniper.”

Geoff and Gavin arranged to meet the sniper, one Ray Narvaez Jr., at a Burger Shot fast food joint downtown. They arrived early, ordered some food, and grabbed a table away from the crowd. After about ten minutes of forced small talk over fries and shakes, a scruffy bespectacled Puerto Rican man with a purple zip hoodie and a single burger from the dollar menu strolled over. He sat down next to Gavin and took a bite of his burger.

“So, what're we robbing?” the man, Ray, asked, mouth full of beef and cheese.

“Convenience store with heavy security. You sure you wanna talk this loud about it?” Geoff asked, one eyebrow ever so slightly cocked.

“The people here have heard me talk about my ill-gotten gains for like two years now. I funnel most of the cash I get back into this place anyway.” Ray shrugged and swallowed.

“What, you own this place?” asked Gavin.

“Nah, I just eat here so often that I walk in, slap two bucks down on the table and they give me my usual.” He glanced back over his shoulder. “No words involved, just the way I like it.”

“That's all besides the point.” Geoff finished his milkshake and set it down. “How much would it take to get you in on this job?”

“I don't know, fifty?” he threw out, looking to Gavin on his right.

“Fifty grand? Not sure we’ll even make that much,” Geoff grumbled. Ray nearly spit out his drink all over Geoff’s suit.

“Fifty grand? You thought… I mean… I meant fifty bucks!” Ray sputtered.

“You want to join a heist crew and you're asking for fifty bucks?” Geoff couldn't believe his ears. “I heard you were the best sniper in Los Santos, I expected to have to pay out the ass for you!”

“Look, the first hit I ever took, I cracked a dude for seventy-five cents! I'm a simple man, I just want enough to get by! Fifty bucks is enough food for like, two months for me!” Ray defended, polishing off his burger and balling up the foil paper.

“What the toss were you gonna do with seventy-five cents?” Gavin seemed flustered, nearly smacking his fries all over the floor. “Buy a pack of gum?”

“I managed to get about three pounds of candy.” He shrugged.

“How the fuck did you manage that?” questioned Geoff.

“Went down to the Del Perro Pier Arcade, found a quarter on the ground, bought one play of the arcade version of Righteous Slaughter 2, cleared the game, and spent all my tickets on the candy the arcade offered.” Ray glanced up. “You grow up poor, you learn to trick your way around shit.”

“Tell you what- we’ll give you a sixth of whatever we get. You know anyone else that'd be interested in something like this?”

“Do I ever.” Ray smirked just enough to make Geoff worry.

As it turned out, Geoff was completely right to worry. The sixth member Ray proposed was Ryan “Vagabond” Haywood, who, when contacted and asked to meet Geoff, agreed to do so on the terms that they met at the summit of Mount Gordo and Geoff brought a 12-box of diet eCola. When Geoff was sitting in a tuxedo on the top of a mountain next to his car and a case of soda, he began to question his life. The life-questioning exponentially increased when Ryan arrived, riding a cow and wearing a black skull mask. Geoff honestly just kind of stared for a little while. As he stared, Ryan smirked beneath the mask.

“Pleasure to meet you. I'm in.” The Vagabond hopped off his steed, pulled a can of soda out of the box, cracked it open, put the box on his shoulder, hopped back on the cow, threw a self-printed business card at Geoff, and rode back down the mountain, chugging the soda.

Geoff polished off an entire six-pack of beer by himself that night. He figured that the sheer fucking insanity of it all gave his liver that bit of an extra boost. However, he was sure that this was going to be a heist to remember. With a crew like this, something interesting was bound to happen.

The stage was set for the first job the six would pull together and the job that would throw everything in all of their lives way, way, way out of whack.

  
  



	2. Project Achieve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The day of the heist comes around, and Geoff's plan goes into motion- and then immediately out of motion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Later chapters will probably end up being longer than these two.

The heist plan seemed simple, at least relatively. Geoff had set it so that Jack (Bravo One) would pull up outside the convenience store at the corner of Innocence and Elegant and let Geoff (Alpha One) and Gavin (Bravo Two) out to go in and rob the store. Ray (Charlie Two) would be posted on top of a warehouse across the street to keep an eye out through the scope of his rifle. As Geoff and Gavin would run out, Jack would pick them up and hightail it to a small alleyway a block or two away where Michael (Charlie One) would await in a semi truck. As Jack would pull in, Michael would pull across and block the alleyway. There would also be a vehicle identical to Jack’s in the alleyway, driven by Ryan (Alpha Two). Geoff and Ryan would take one car and Jack and Gavin would mislead the cops by taking the other one while Geoff had the money. Michael would blow up the truck and get picked up by Ray on a motorcycle. Jack and Gavin would drive up north to the Great Ocean Highway and approach the summit of Mount Chilliad from Raton Canyon, while Ray and Michael would take a more easterly northern path and approach from the opposite side. Most importantly, Geoff and Ryan would head to Puerto Del Sol and take a speedboat out into the ocean, eventually circling back around into the Alamo Sea and up to the top of the mountain. There, the six would meet and split whatever they got six ways.

That was how it was supposed to go down.

The sun’s last few rays disappeared over the horizon. Geoff turned the plan over in his head as he sat in the passenger seat of a black SUV with Jack at the wheel and Gavin in the back. They’d used Burnie’s money to get two stolen SUVs painted identically, a boat, and a motorcycle. Ray and Lindsay had provided their guns, with the majority of the crew only using pistols. The exceptions were Ray, who used his sniper rifle, and Ryan, who had somehow managed to procure a grenade. They’d also sprung for the earpiece radios, which all six of them had. Geoff took a deep breath in and out, and glanced to Jack. He reached up and tapped his earpiece to call the crew.

“Alright. Heist’s on, boys.” He nodded to Jack, who ever so casually drove up to the front of the store. Geoff nodded to Gavin and they got out, casually walking into the store and pretending to browse through the cheap snacks and booze.

“Civilian, coming towards the store.” Ray’s voice sounded off in the earpieces. “Keep going, she looks like she might just miss the whole thing.” Geoff nodded to Gavin and took a bottle of beer up to the counter, setting it down.

“Just this, please,” he affably requested. “Well, that, and all the money in the register.” The cashier had failed to notice Gavin coming up to his side and aiming the gun at his head. Geoff drew his own to have two-gun coverage and motioned to the cash register. Panicking, the cashier opened it up and started shoveling the money into a plastic bag. Gavin spurred him on by yelling such things as ‘put the money in the bag, you son of a bitch!’ His loud yells alerted the woman outside, who pulled out a radio and started to jog away, saying something about a 4-2-3 or a 5-9-9 or some kind of police code. The radio, along with her head, was soon split by an expert shot by Ray, who ducked down and radioed the team.

“We’re gonna have company, you guys. Get out of there quick.” He kept watching the scene, scanning with a watchful eye. Geoff motioned for Gavin to go into the back room to check for any auxiliary funds. It took him half a minute to come back out with a small black box that would prove to be the thing that took the exploded, upside down, pear-shaped shards of a normal life for Geoff and hurtled them into the void. Gavin held it up.

“Y’wanna take this? Looks valuable,” he commented, spinning it in his hand in the light.

“No! You can’t take that!” the cashier yelled. He pulled a gun of his own out and got halfway through pulling the trigger on Gavin before Geoff smashed him across the face with the beer bottle. The cashier was killed instantly, and Gavin and Geoff took this as a sign to fucking book it. They sprinted out of the store and got into Jack’s car. As Jack floored it and headed for the alley where Michael and Ryan awaited, Ray jumped onto his motorcycle and followed after them.

Inside the SUV, Gavin passed the black cube to Geoff, who examined it closer. Neither of them noticed that Gavin had accidentally pressed a button on it and an internal timer was ticking down.

“Shit, it’s heavier than I thought,” Geoff mused, noticing a small star pattern and the word ACHIEVE engraved into the side. The sound of sirens snapped Geoff back to reality. His immediate reaction was to draw his pistol and look out the back window, where he saw two police cruisers following. Gavin was already halfway out the window to fire at them. Geoff passed the cube up to Jack, who gave it a half-second glance of confusion as Geoff started shooting at the cops. With a quick horn-honk, Jack pulled into the alley where Michael and Ryan awaited. The timing was such that when Michael went forward to block the alley, the cops couldn’t stop in time and smashed into the side of the truck.

When Michael got out of the truck, Geoff got out of the SUV. Jack realized that he had forgotten the cube and got out to give it back. The first thing that really went wrong in the heist was Gavin, who had the brilliant idea to climb forward into the driver’s seat and pull towards the alley exit. Jack passed the cube off to Michael to save time and turned around to see her vehicle moving forward without her.

“Wait, come back!” she yelled, running after it and waving her arms. Gavin pulled forward too far, not knowing how to drive, and ended up running into a police cruiser. The occupants of the cruiser got out and shot Gavin to death as he tried to figure out how to put it in reverse. Jack swore under her breath and backed off, returning fire. “Fuck, we lost Gavin! Gotta get out of here somehow!”  
Michael held the cube now, running to Ray’s newly arrived motorcycle. He glanced to Geoff, who was a ways off and getting into Ryan’s SUV. He wound up to throw it and then reconsidered, glancing to Ray.

“We gotta cruise right by Geoff- I mean, Alpha One! He needs to be the one holding the take!” Michael noted, pressing the box into Ray’s chest and climbing on. Ray took it, and, in a considerable show of skill, navigated the bike to Geoff with one hand. Without stopping, he called Geoff’s name and tossed him the cube. The whole time, Michael was popping police with his pocket pistol.

Geoff got into Ryan’s car with the cube. He sat in the seat for a second before glancing at Ryan.

“Any reason we’re not moving?” he questioned, raising an eyebrow.

“You haven’t put on your seatbelt,” Ryan stated. Geoff groaned and tried to buckle himself in, but the clip just wasn’t taking. While he struggled, Ryan reached over and picked up the cube to examine it. Finally, Geoff managed to clip himself in and Ryan passed the cube back, suddenly putting the pedal to the medal.  
Jack sprinted out of the alley through a side passage and heard a motorcycle coming up behind her. The next thing she knew, she was on the ground with three bullets in her back. As she blacked out, she saw Ray and Michael zip past her. The guys on the bike just caught a glimpse of her body in the darkness and reached the same conclusion at the same time.

“Fuck, we lost Bravo One!” Michael yelled.

“You fucking shot her!” Ray responded.

“It was dark, I thought she was a cop!”

“She’s got a fucking Hawaiian shirt on!”

“Hey, hey, I need a sitrep!” Geoff interjected. “What’s going on?”

“Bravo Two got shot by the cops, I don’t know what happened with Bravo One, just some, uh, accident or something-” explained Michael.

“Nice cover,” Ray muttered, heading through a tunnel.

Geoff and Ryan pulled up to the Puerta del Sol marina with no cops visibly in pursuit. They took a moment to still their breathing and then unbuckled their seatbelts, jogging to the boat. Geoff got into the driver’s seat and Ryan climbed in after him, not sitting down quite yet. The Vagabond looked around the boat, confused.

“The hell are you looking for?” Geoff asked.

“Are we really doing this without lifejackets?” Ryan scratched his head.

“Sit the fuck down.”

Michael and Ray shot out the other end of the tunnel like two bats out of hell on a motorcycle. They could see the city limits in the distance, and both were experienced enough to know that it’d be easier to ditch the heat up north. Ray shifted into a new gear, leaning dramatically over the handlebars. They had one more red light to go before getting out of town, but at the intersection, a cop car careened into their path with no warning. Ray had no time to react and smashed the bike into the hood. He died on impact and Michael only barely survived, being thrown from the bike to hit the ground hard, most likely breaking multiple bones. The cops got out and finished him off with a pistol round or two.

Geoff and Ryan made it out into open water and set their sights on Raton Canyon. Michael and Ray’s death screams still rang in their ears, but neither made a comment immediately. Eventually, Ryan glanced over and said something, but Geoff couldn’t hear it over the waves. He slowed the boat down and looked to Ryan.

“What was that?”

“I asked if it was just us left.” Ryan crossed his arms and glanced to his right to look at the shoreline. With his keen eyes, he could see spotlight-equipped helicopters in the distance headed their way. Geoff nodded solemnly.

“Yeah, just you and me,” he sighed. Ryan let slip a hair of a smirk.

“Well, I mean…” he paused, most likely for dramatic effect. “There doesn't have to be the two of us…”

“What are you-” Geoff was cut short by Ryan drawing his pistol and blowing Geoff’s brains into the ocean. With a dead driver, the boat slowly came to a stop as the spotlights approached. Ryan stood up in the back of the boat and took Geoff’s pistol from the corpse.

It soon hit Ryan that there was no way he could take out that many choppers by himself with two pistols and a grenade. He grabbed Geoff and hauled him overboard, starting up the boat again and continuing their valiant escape.

A casual look back alerted Ryan to the fact that the money was still on Geoff’s body, and now all that was in the boat was him and the cube. He gripped the steering with white knuckles and gritted his teeth, slowing to a stop again. The choppers were closer now, and Ryan knew he wouldn't get out of this alive. He stood up once more, picked up the cube (which he noted had a faint lime green glow to it now), pulled the grenade out in his other hand, and pulled the pin.

“Welp, Viking funeral,” he commented, letting the grenade drop to his feet. The force of the explosion blew Ryan and the cube out of the boat and into the ocean. Thankfully, he died near-immediately.

* * *

 The coastline of San Andreas is one of the greatest selling points for tourism that the state has. The ocean view is like no other and the sea breeze just perfectly complements the whole atmosphere. That breeze was the first thing Ryan noticed when he came to. The second thing he noticed was the sand that he was lying face-down in. The third was the white sneakers he saw when he lifted his head. The fourth was the voice of a very, very angry Geoff Ramsey.

“Welcome back, Haywood. You've got a lot of explaining to do,” he snarled with his arms crossed. Behind him stood Jack, Gavin, Michael, and Ray, all at various levels of confusion and anger. Ryan’s mouth hung open.

“I think you've got some explaining to do too, Geoff.”


	3. Honor Among Thieves

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The crew heads back to Geoff's apartment to deconstruct the situation. Now, they're in debt and tensions are rising.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are a few key RT figures I still haven't exactly placed yet, but quite a few more come in in this chapter. If you haven't seen your favorite yet, don't worry- they're probably on their way.

The car ride back to Geoff’s apartment was tense, to say the least. They'd stolen an SUV to ride back, with Ray taking a dirt bike because he liked to be alone. In the SUV, Jack drove with Geoff in the passenger seat, Ryan in the driver’s side backseat staring out the window, Michael in the passenger side backseat with his arms crossed, and Gavin in the middle of the backseat with his head in his hands. The silence rang in everyone’s ears. As they hit a red light, Jack turned and leaned back over the seat.

“What the hell happened?” she asked. Michael gave a worried glance and turned his gaze out the window.

“We’re… we’re… we’re dead, right? This is some kind of… pre-death… dream, right?” Gavin asked, looking up through his hands.

“If this were a premortem dream, do you think it would hurt if I punched you in the face?” snarked Ryan.

“Shut up.” Geoff muttered. “Shut up, shut up.” In his hands was the cube that had started it all. He was closely examining it, noting every little engraving.

“When we get back, I want a debriefing. Full scale. Every little detail.” Jack turned back around and started moving forward again. Out the window, Michael saw Ray zip by, not giving half a shit about the laws of traffic.

“Is that a good idea?” Michael bit his lip. “Do we want to know what happened?”

“Oh, I know what happened!” Geoff snarled. “Ryan fucking shot me!”

“Shut the hell up, you’re fine,” scoffed Ryan, staring straight out the window.

“I wasn't fine, Ryan! And you weren't either!”

“We’re here, aren't we?”

“We could have been on top of Mount Chiliad with a fifty-fifty cut!” Two more decibels and Geoff would have been screaming.

“Yeah, Ray and I were on our way there after we respawned, too. Shit would have been fine if the money didn't all go into the ocean,” grumbled Michael.

“We’re here.” Jack pulled up outside of Geoff’s apartment building next to Ray’s bike. The crew piled out and took an awkward elevator ride up to Geoff’s floor, where Ray waited by the locked door. Once inside, Michael and Gavin sat on the couch together. Ray leaned against the wall over to the side, Jack and Geoff sat at the counter, and Ryan stood behind the couch.

“So, are you ever going to tell Jack what happened?” Ryan leaned down and murmured to Michael.

“I'll let it blow over for now. I'm not sure how she'd handle it,” replied Michael. He took a nervous glance at Jack, who had just cracked into a bottle of beer. “I feel really bad about it,” he continued. “I just want to make sure she knows it was an accident.”

“If we’re talking about accidents, I may have messed up as well.” Gavin sighed.

“Yeah? What'd you do?” asked Ryan.

“Forgot that I don't know how to drive.”

“Ouch.”

Geoff stood up and coughed loudly, gathering the crew’s attention.

“So, let's get a quick rundown. Here's what we know.” He sighed and rubbed his chin. “In the past twenty-four hours, the six of us have all died. I'm the past two hours, we’ve all woken up a block or two from where we died, or in Ryan and my case, the shoreline closest to where we died. All of us were killed by shooting, except for Ray, who was killed by a cop car, and Ryan, who exploded. And, if I'm right about my theory, we all touched this cube-” He produced it from inside his jacket. “-in the minutes before we died. Did any of us not touch it?” Geoff was met with shaking heads aplenty. Before he could continue, the sound of someone unlocking the door interrupted him. Everyone turned and looked just as it swung open to reveal Burnie Burns, holding a spare key and an empty cardboard box labeled ‘Geoff’s Shit.’ His head was turned to speak to someone behind him.

“...probably just gonna put his stuff in a storage locker or sell it or something. Dickhead didn't even leave a will-” Burnie turned and saw the crew, his mouth hanging open. “Oh.” Geoff raised an eyebrow as a female voice came from behind Burnie.

“What? What is it?” The blonde head of Ashley Jenkins peeked out from behind Burnie. Ashley was a reporter with Weazel News, the premier news source for Los Santos. She was also dating Burnie. The crew, save for Ryan, all recognized her immediately and turned away. Burnie just pointed at the completely alive Geoff and stuttered out a bit.

“H-hey, dickhead.”

It took Burnie and Ashley a little while to recover from the initial shock. Another of Geoff and Burnie’s mutual friends, Gus Sorola, had walked in after Ashley and Burnie and had pretty much the same reaction. Now, Burnie, Ashley, and Gus were all sat on the couch while Geoff explained the situation to them. Ashley was the first to speak up.

“So… Wow. We reported that you all got killed.” She shook her head. “And here you are.”

“Any statements from the police? We should know what they think about the situation.” asked Ryan, ever pragmatic.

“All I know is that when your bodies didn't turn up, one Detective Marquis was assigned to the case.” Ashley shrugged. “Here.” She grabbed the remote and turned the TV on, flipping to the news channel.

_“...on that later. In other news, popular TV personality Jon Risinger released a statement concerning accusations that he pre-plans segments and jokes on his improv game show On the Spot. Here to talk about it is senior correspondent-”_

Ashley clicked off the TV. “Well, that didn’t work. I thought they’d have the bit on you guys on. Sorry,” she apologized.

“So, Detective Marquis, huh? Well, we’ll have to deal with him at some point,” Ray muttered.

“Okay, listen.” Geoff addressed the three on the couch. “We can’t let anybody know what happened. Just act casual. We can’t take any more risks, we don’t know how far up this thing goes. We gotta act like this shit never happened.”

“Just one problem, dickhead.” Burnie stood up and held out a finger to shush Geoff. “You still owe me for that loan, dude.”

“Really, Burnie? Really? I fucking died,” snarled Geoff. “How much do I even owe you?”

“Gimme a thousand and we’ll call it even.”

“A thousand? Oh, fuck, alright. I’ll get it to you. Fuck you, by the way.”

“Yeah, fuck you too.” Burnie turned and walked for the door, followed closely by Gus.

“Listen, I’ll look into the detective for you.” Ashley cheerily added and waved goodbye, heading after her boyfriend. Geoff shook his head.

“A thousand dollars.... A thousand… dollars… fucking… fuck, dude. I need a drink.” He ran a hand through his hair and plopped down on the couch, covering his head with his hands. A cold cylinder suddenly pressed against his cheek. Geoff recoiled slightly and uncovered his eyes to see Jack holding a bottle of beer out to him. She had a warm smile on her face, somehow assuring Geoff that it was all going to turn out fine. And the beer didn’t hurt either.

* * *

 

“You’re fucking with me, right?”

Lindsay Tuggey was a smart girl. She had a solid basis of street smarts and she knew how to fuck some people up. That being said, she was completely unprepared for the bombshell her boyfriend had dropped on her. Michael was strangely reserved about the whole deal, acting generally nervous about telling her, and that told Lindsay that he was telling the truth. Still, people don’t just wake up perfectly fine after getting hit by cop cars and getting shot in the head.

“Lindsay, you have to believe me. There was this cube, and… look, the point is… watch this.” Michael grabbed the remote and turned on the television in their shared apartment.

_“...the Spot has and always will be a show focused on the best of what people can come up with on the fly, and as the creator of the show, I would never ruin that with preplanning. Do we edit things to make them look a bit funnier? Of course we do, it’s television. But everything that comes out of the contestant’s mouths is completely, 100 percent-”_

“Dammit.” He switched the TV off again. “Point is, I died, Lindsay. And for some reason, I’m still here.”

“Well…” Lindsay rubbed her chin. “Promise me something.”

“What?”

“If you outlive me, date someone cute.”

“You’re un-fucking-believable.”

* * *

 

Geoff wasn’t exactly the clubbing type, at least in the partying sense of the word. Why he had ever started dating the owner of a popular nightclub, he had no idea. All he knew was that the Griffon served excellent drinks, and the pounding in his head from the music was almost tolerable when it was countered by the pounding in his head from the alcohol. He sat at the edge of the bar, as far away as he could be from the main speakers and still not have to move to get drinks, and waved one of the girls who worked at the club down. The light was somewhat dim, but Geoff could vaguely make out the girl having bright red hair, glasses, and a winning smile. She smiled at Geoff and waved a little bit.

“Hello! You’re Mr. Ramsey, right?” she asked.

“What?” he called back. After she repeated her statement a bit louder, he nodded. “Yeah! Do you think you could tell Griffon I’m here?” The girl nodded and waved goodbye, walking up to the club office. Geoff only barely caught a glimpse of her nametag as she left: something like Marge or Maggie or that. Started with an M. He ordered a drink and waited. Soon enough, the one and only Griffon Ramsey presented herself.

In Geoff’s eyes, it was like she was enveloped in a bright white light with how stunning she was. Her blonde hair was shaved on one side and let long on the other, and tattoos decorated her like a museum built to tell the story of who she was as a person. Behind her, Geoff could see the redhead from earlier. The namesake of the club walked over to Geoff with a confident air that almost knocked him off his stool. She put a hand on her hip and smirked.

“Hey, buddy, I think it’s time we cut you off,” Griffon teased. “You’ve had enough.”

“Look, normally, I’d love the witty banter, but shit’s up, Griffon,” he spoke gravely. “Can we talk in your office?”

“Pay me fifty bucks and we might just be able to.”

“ _Griffon_.”

“Alright, let’s go.”

The office of the Griffon was a modern affair- large window that opened out onto the city, calm lighting, general monochrome colors- and Geoff felt at ease when he was there. Griffon was now at her desk, casually kicking her feet up and putting her hands behind her head. The redhead sat by the door, leaning against the wall with that same winning smile. Geoff was right between them, still wearing that scruffy tux and sneakers.

“So, what’s up? You seem really anxious,” asked Griffon. “What’s on your mind?”

“Does she have to be here?” Geoff motioned to the redhead.

“Who, Meg? Yeah, she’s fine. She won’t say a word to anybody, promise.”

“Alright…” Geoff sighed, rubbing his forehead. “Well, I’ll jump right in… Griffon, I died yesterday.”

“Wha-”

“No no no, let me explain a bit more. I pulled a job with a couple guys last night, and it went south. Like, hard south. We all ended up shot to death or worse.”

“...Go on…” Griffon leaned forward.

“And then we woke up.”

“You woke up?”

“Physically fine, mentally a bit shaken. We all woke up a short ways away from where we went down.”

“Shit.”

“Yeah.”

“Any ideas on what caused it?”

“Little black box. Star patterned. All six of us touched it during the heist. One of the guys found it in the back of the store we hit.” Geoff explained, rubbing his head.

“You hear that, Meg?” Griffon leaned to look around Geoff to the redhead.

“Yes, ma’am! I’ll talk to Mariel, see if she can get me anywhere.” Meg cheerily stated, gave a mock salute, and walked out.

“Good job.” Griffon smiled. “She’s good. I’ll call you if we find anything.”

“Thanks, Griffon.” Geoff nodded and turned to walk out.

“Oh, hey, Geoff?”

“Yeah?” He turned back.

“Are you alright? ” she asked, seeming genuine.

“...Yes. I think so. See you at home.” Geoff smiled, only just a bit, and blew her a little kiss before heading out of the office and out of the club.

* * *

 

Ray opened his latest target folder and examined the details one more time. His target was an older man, greying hair, blue eyes, skin on the paler side, and by now he should have been coming out of the restaurant that he usually ate at on Saturday nights. Ray zipped up his purple hoodie and picked up his rifle, checking once more on the door to the restaurant from his rooftop vantage point. He saw it open just a crack and zoomed in, narrowing his eyes. The door hesitated before swinging the rest of the way open to reveal the target. The man took two steps out of the restaurant before a sniper round carried him right back in through the still open doorframe. Ray looked up from his scope at the commotion that surrounded his freshly dead target. His job was done.

Except he hadn’t pulled the trigger.

Ray brought up the scope again and whipped around to examine the surrounding buildings. The target had been knocked backwards, so it was fair to assume that the shooter was in Ray’s vicinity. A blur of motion caught his eye on one rooftop and he zeroed in. His keen eyes managed to catch just enough of the shooter’s image for him to recognize them later. The figure that was currently packing up their high-powered sniper rifle had bright red hair, glasses, and a winning smile. She gave Ray a smirk, then dropped off of the roof and out of sight.

 

**TOTAL CREW DEBT: $1000**


	4. A Free Man

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gavin's come up with a plan for a heist, so the crew throws it together and tries their luck once more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter's been taking me a while because I've started doing a lot more preplanning, especially with a giant chapter that's coming down the line eventually. You'll know when it happens.

“Man, the response times in this part of town are ass.”

Ray, Ryan, and Gavin stood around on a street corner in the middle of a hot Los Santos summer day. They were dressed garishly, clad in all bright yellow like a bunch of asshole bananas. Gavin had come up with a plan- though Geoff hesitated to call it a plan- to try and get their money back to pay Burnie. He wasn’t exactly specific with the details, but now that the details had been revealed, the crew wished they hadn’t agreed. The first step was to steal two firetrucks, which in and of itself was quite a ludicrous idea. And yet, here they were. Gavin had told them that the yellow was to help camouflage them as firemen, and Ray thought he was stupid, but didn’t really have anything better to do. His mind was mostly still on the kill-stealing assassin from the other day, the one who had taken out his target (and probably received payment for it) before he could. Ryan, on the other hand, was so involved in the current task that he was getting just a little bit murder-y.

“What the fuck is keeping them? We called 911 like ten minutes ago! The building should be burnt by now!” he raged, poking harshly at his phone screen.

“Maybe they could tell you weren’t actually a woman,” remarked Ray as he leaned against a telephone pole. “Why’d you even have to do that? Pretty sure 911 comes no matter who’s calling.”

“Well, y’know, hot flashes.” Ryan shrugged.

At a nearby construction site, Lindsay, Michael, Geoff, and Jack sat around a tanker truck full of fuel. They were waiting on an associate of Lindsay’s to come and drop off a couple of sticky bombs for the general plan. Geoff, as was becoming a trend in his life, was staring straight ahead with a look that just screamed ‘I can’t believe this.’ Michael sat in the driver’s seat of the truck, resting his forearms on the steering wheel while Jack sat on top of the truck, idly swinging her legs. Lindsay leaned against the front with crossed arms, yawning just a little bit. Geoff looked up at Jack and sighed.

“You think this is going to work?” he asked, one hand in his pocket.

“I think we might as well give it a shot,” Jack replied. “We’ve already died, what else can go wrong?”

“Well, we don’t know what the limits on this thing are. Maybe we had one chance only.”

“So let’s not mess up then.” Jack chuckled.

“Not fucking likely.”

Down at the La Puerta beach, an associate of Lindsay’s was busy planting a couple of jet skis. He was a blond guy with a plain black t-shirt, very unassuming in the general culture of Los Santos. At this point, he was coasting the fourth jet ski into place. His name was Kerry, and he was happy to have work. Sure the pay wasn’t great, but it was better than nothing. As he hopped off and got back to the shore, an attractive man with very noticeable eyebrows walked up to him and flashed a badge.

“Kerry Shawcross, yes? I’m a detective. Could you come with me for a second? Just a few questions,” the man asked in a rather charming way. Kerry gulped.

“Uh… yeah. Yeah, sure, uh… yeah.” The jet skis were in place, and this guy probably had nothing on him, so he just had to dance around some questions, right?

Kerry was wrong.

* * *

 

Two fire trucks and five sticky bombs later, everyone was in their designated spots. Michael was in the tanker, Ray and Gavin were in the front firetruck, Ryan and Geoff were in the back, and Jack sat on a motorcycle in an alley near the store. The plan was for Michael to drive the tanker to the station, get out, rob the place, leg it, and then have Geoff blow up the tanker with the strategically placed sticky bombs. Jack would pick up Michael and the other four would rush in with their trucks, acting as the first responders. They’d split up then and make for the jet skis, where all six would arrive together and escape out into the ocean.

“So, we all ready?” asked Gavin over the radios, sitting behind the wheel.

“Ready here,” replied Jack.

“All good here,” said Michael.

“Let’s do this thing,” said Geoff, the detonator resting next to him in his fire truck.

“Well, Ray and I are tip top and ready to rock!” Gavin cheered. “Heist on! Move the tanker, Michael boi.” The tanker began lurching forward, building up speed and driving casually down the road to the targeted gas station. Michael’s knuckles began turning white with how hard he was gripping the wheel. The silence on the comms was nerve-wracking. As the tanker pulled in between the pumps., an attendant came out of the store and approached Michael.

“Hey, buddy, what’s the idea? Tankers get filled up around back!” the assistant called.

“Oh, I’m just gonna grab a bite to eat!” Michael flashed a fake smile and hopped out of the truck.

“Still, pal, you can’t just take up the space-” He was cut off by a hand from Michael.

“You try driving this fucking thing for eighteen hours a day. I’ll park wherever I want.” Michael stopped the conversation there and walked inside. The store was a decently clean one, with a good assortment of snacks, alcohol, and other pit stop-ish wares. Michael spent five minutes poking around like he was looking for something, then approached the register. “Hey, man.” As the crew listened, Michael drew a pistol and jabbed it forward at the clerk. “You know the drill! Money! Bag! Give! Chop chop!” The cashier nodded and started pulling fistfuls of bills out of the register, moving them into a plastic bag.

“Pick up the pace, Michael. I've still gotta get home and make dinner.” Geoff sighed, fiddling with the detonator.

“On it.” Michael grabbed the bag of cash. “You don't know what I look like, understand?” The cashier nervously nodded. “Good.” Michael lodged a bullet cleanly in the man’s shoulder, then hightailed it out of there. He estimated the blast zone and rounded the corner to where Jack waited.

“Alright, Michael’s here! Blow it!” Jack called, revving up the motorcycle as Michael got in. She sped away, noticing a peculiar lack of high explosions. Back in the fire trucks, Geoff was hitting the button over and over again, but nothing was happening. He let out a frustrated groan and smashed it on the dashboard.

“Jack, Michael, you're going to have to find a way to blow it yourselves. Stupid dumbass piece of shit isn't working.” Jack did a U-turn on the bike, and Michael readied his pistol. They had the same thought at the same time, and Michael managed to land a few good shots on the tanker as they zipped by. Jack was just about to ask if she should turn the bike around for another pass when the gas station erupted.

“Holy shit, they’re gonna hear that in Paleto Bay!” yelled Jack, detouring to try and angle back to her original route.

“Sirens on, boys! Let's first responder this shit!” Gavin shouted as the flames billowed into the warm night sky. He flicked his own sirens on and sped forward, followed by Geoff. The two trucks raced for the scene of the fire at a breakneck pace while the cars ahead of them swerved to the right to get out of their way. Gavin’s truck was headed straight for the gas pumps- a little too straight for the gas pumps. So straight for the gas pumps, in fact, that he tried to stop, missed the brake pedal, and slammed the truck full force into the one pump left that hadn’t been obliterated completely by the explosion. Naturally, this caused both the pump and the truck to explode, which sent dozens, if not hundreds or thousands of pieces of shrapnel through Ray and Gavin. Geoff swerved to avoid the blast and ended up looking straight on at the oncoming police response. There was a moment of clarity, and then bullets tore through the windshield.

Geoff got lucky and took a bullet in the shoulder while another scraped his cheek. Ryan got the opposite of lucky and got annihilated in the passenger seat. Geoff’s instincts kicked in and he floored it, making the truck lurch away and turn broadside to the cops. He was panicking hard, every muscle in his body tensed like nobody’s business, and it managed to get him out semi-safely. He headed for the jetskis, like he was supposed to, occasionally stealing glances at Ryan’s corpse.

Jack was headed the same way, with Michael clinging to the back of her bike. The situation seemed too familiar to Michael- a long stretch of road, the back of a bicycle… Soon, the analogy would be complete. Soon, a cop car would come screaming from the other side of the road and swerve towards the two criminals, with Jack having no time to react. And just like last time, the driver was killed on impact while Michael lived just long enough to be executed on the spot by the LSPD.

The sounds of the deaths reached Geoff through his earpiece. He’d ditched the fire engine by now, and was sprinting for the jet skis. Ryan had somehow disappeared, which meant that he was probably respawning soon, but… Geoff didn’t want to die again. Sure, he ended up fine, but it hurt. His morbid thinking only continued as he got onto the yellow jet ski that Kerry had planted and zipped out into the sea. As he fought the oncoming waves, he realized that Michael had the money, and, subsequently, the cops had the money. What further worsened the situation was the police he could see littering the beach and looking in his direction. With a sigh, he drew his pistol and raised it to his temple.

“Fuckin’ bullshit, dude.”

A gunshot rang out across the ocean, audible from the shore.

* * *

 

Geoff didn’t feel any pain upon waking up. In fact, the nausea and abdominal pain he’d been trying to figure out for a while were completely gone. What did suck was that he woke up on the beach, and that meant he had sand in his suit again. That was another couple of quarters down the drain.

**TOTAL CREW DEBT: $1000.50**


	5. The Griffon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The crew relaxes with a night out at Griffon's club, and several important questions are raised. Why are they constantly being revived? How are they going to pay back Burnie? What the hell does Ryan do when he's not with the crew? Where is Gavin even from?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What? Progression of plot? In MY fic? It's more likely than you think. In all seriousness, thanks for reading. Really means a lot to me, no joke. Love you guys. If you've got any suggestions for where to put specific RT/AH personalities, or even people from the extended RT-verse like Funhaus or whatever, throw 'em at me. I'm pretty much winging it as I go.

“Okay, what went wrong?” asked Griffon, sitting at her stately desk.

“Gavin planned it,” sighed Geoff, leaning against the wall.

“No, specifically. What went wrong?”

“Gavin drove himself and Ray into gas pumps, Ryan got gunned down, Jack crashed and killed Michael with him, and I shot myself out on the ocean,” Geoff grumbled. “Total failure. I'm thinking of planning the next try, cause we still owe Burnie some money.”

“Why don't you give it to someone else?” Griffon idly suggested as she did some vaguely deep-web related stuff on her work computer.

“Did I mention the part where we all died?”

“Yeah, but that happened the time you planned it too.”

“Shut up,” Geoff grumbled. The door to the office swung open and Meg walked in with a tray, upon which rested a glass of whiskey on the rocks. Geoff offered her a smile.

“Here you go, Mr. Ramsey.” She held out the tray and he pulled the drink off of it. Meg tucked the tray to her side and was left holding a folder with a stack of documents inside. She dropped it onto Griffon’s desk. “Here's what Mariel, Caiti, Ashley, and Barbara managed to dig up, boss.” She turned and started to head back out to the dance floor, then turned around. “Oh, and there's a guy at the bar in a camo jacket who’s being very disrespectful.”

“Must be his first time here,” muttered Geoff. Griffin nodded as Meg left and pushed the talk button on her radio.

“Barbara, please see a man in a camo jacket at the bar out of our fine establishment. Thank you.” Griffon set the radio down and flipped open the folder. Her eyes widened. “Geoff…”

“What, what is it?” He walked over and looked over her shoulder. 

“This is military shit.”

Geoff took a closer look at the top page of the file. It was all in that typewriter style print that made it look that much more professional. On the top of the page, it read “PROJECT ACHIEVE” with a large red classified stamp on it. Geoff peered even closer and rubbed his chin. He caught a glimpse of the words ‘ongoing effort to achieve instant resurrection with hopes of lessening loss of life in times of war’ which was a really stupidly wordy way to say ‘bring back dead dudes to fight more to win.’ He also noted that this was the twenty-sixth prototype that PROJECT: ACHIEVE had created, and that it had yet to be tested.

“Geoff, you said you found this in a convenience store?” Griffon looked up at him. “What the fuck was it doing there?”

“I don’t know! Gavin found it, we should ask him!” Geoff picked up his phone to dial Gavin. Griffon quickly grabbed his phone and yanked it out of his hands.

“Do it later.”

“But this is what matters right no-”

“No. You’ve been working those guys too hard. Need I remind you that you’ve all died twice each in the past week?” interrupted Griffon.

“Well, yeah, but-” Geoff stammered.

“I’ll organize a night of free drinks for them. Tonight. They deserve a break.” Griffon began to pick up her radio.

“Griffon, we need to figure-”

“You can ask Gavin tomorrow.” She shushed him and held up the radio. “Maggie, I need you to prep an all-nighter for Geoff Ramsey, Michael Jones, Jack Pattillo, Gavin Free, Ryan Haywood, and Ray Narvaez Jr. Got it? Thanks, you’re great.”

Geoff stuttered a little, then shook his head.

* * *

 

That night, the Griffon was livelier than usual. This was definitely in part due to the four drunken idiots and two sober idiots at the bar, making a hell of a racket.

Jack and Gavin had each started hitting on a girl at the bar. The target of Jack’s affections was a woman named Caiti, and Jack had gone out of her way to make a show of buying her drinks, even though all their drinks that night were on the house. That was probably three beers in for Jack. Gavin, on the other hand, was obviously sloshed, hitting on Meg with reckless abandon and some degree, however low, of British charm.

“Oi, luv, you’re the prettiest bird I’ve ever seen!” he slurred, seeming to get more and more English as the night went on. “You and I oughta get breakfast sometime! I’ll show you the greatest lil… yeah…” He took another big swig and Meg just giggled.

“You sure you haven’t had enough, there, Gav?” She leaned on the bar all casual-like.

“Nah, love, I’m just getting warmed up!” He stumbled a bit forward, prompting Meg to catch and support him.

“Hey, stud, let’s get you to a bed. You look like you’re pretty much down for the count,” Meg offered, trying to hide her laughter.

“Nooooo, I’m fine! If Michael boi isn’t leaving, then I’m not leaving!” cried Gavin, weakly flailing. “I can’t drive, so he’s gotta come with me.”

“I can drive you. But we better get you to my place, it’s much closer than yours.” She offered a little wink.

“Ohohohoho~, are you flirting with me?”

“Might be.” She chuckled again and helped him out of the club and towards her car.

Geoff was fucked up. Michael was fucked up. Geoff and Michael were about to try and fuck each other up in the parking lot. Behind each of them stood their respective teetotaller, with Ryan behind Geoff and Ray behind Michael. Ray and Ryan shared equally disappointed expressions as Geoff and Michael swore vigorously at each other. Lindsay and Griffon also watched on. Just as Michael was about to throw the first punch, Jack ran out of the club and over to her car, pulling it up to the entrance. The six people gathered watched as Caiti walked out of the club and got into Jack’s car, which then sped away. Geoff chuckled a bit.

“Huh. Good for her.” He smiled, and then Michael knocked his lights out.

* * *

 

Meg Turney’s apartment was very modern, very tidy, and very expensive looking. She'd sprung for the four-poster bed and the view that looked over the majority of downtown Los Santos. It was one of the most beautiful views Gavin had ever seen, and that included his native London. The view of Meg herself waking up next to Gavin was even better, though. What wasn't so beautiful was the massive hangover he was going through. When he was awake enough to feel it, he let out a loud groan and sat up with his head in his hands. Meg stirred next to him and grumbled.

“Gav? What is it?” she asked sleepily, rubbing her eyes.

“My bloody ‘ead ‘urts.” he bemoaned, speaking in his typical Liverpool accent.

“They say that coffee and a shower and pretty company takes care of that,” she proposed, sitting up next to him.

“What say you and I get a shower and some breakfast, then?” he managed with as much flirtatiousness and charm as he could with a colossal headache.

“I know this cute little breakfast place up near Vinewood, but we’re gonna have to hurry. Might save time if we showered together.”

“You read my mind, love~.”

* * *

 

The food at the diner tasted quite different from the food that Gavin used to wake up to in his hometown of Manchester. Back in Birmingham, he’d always expect a bit of bangers and mash at the tip top of the morning, but life in Los Santos was quite different from life in his hometown of Nottingham.

“So where are you from again?” Meg asked.

“Oxfordshire. Little market town called Thame.” Gavin took another bite of his breakfast. A smile came to his face after he remembered how life was in his hometown of Dublin. Back in Glasgow, nobody died and then came back later. Things were just simpler in Sydney. He shook his head. “How about you?”

“Born and raised  in Vice City.” She chuckled a little bit. “I’ve lived here for only a couple years, if you believe it. I do travel a lot, though. Work, and stuff.” 

“You travel for work? I thought you were a waitress.”

“Oh, I just work for Griffon. Sometimes she needs some stuff done in other cities.” Meg smiled mysteriously. “Business connections, and all that jazz.”

“Vice City seems nice.” Gavin was about to continue, but his phone rang. “‘Scuse me, love. Gotta take this.” He stood up and walked outside, answering. “What's up?”

* * *

 

The drive out of LS was a beautiful one, with the view of the Vinewood sign up in the distance and the horizon stretching out before Geoff’s pickup truck. His destination was Grapeseed, as Ryan had asked him to swing by his place to run a new heist plan by him, so he was making the trip by himself. He sighed and turned down the radio, tapping his phone’s screen to call Gavin. The phone rang for a little, then he picked up.

“What's up?” came the answer.

“Gav, it’s Geoff.” Geoff glanced out the window. “That box thing, where did you find it again?”

“Oh, yeah, it was in the back of that store, sitting in the thing with a bunch of other crap.”

“Sitting in what?” asked Geoff, taking the off-ramp towards Grapeseed.

“You know those loot crates you get in Righteous Slaughter 6? Looked like one of those, but it was already open.” Gavin’s voice came through as nonchalant. “Why? Is it important?”

“Fuck, dude. Shit’s bad.” Geoff pulled into the town of Grapeseed and began looking around for Ryan’s house.

“The toss are you on about?”

“Tell you later, Gavvy.” Geoff hung up and parked his car in the driveway of the Haywood household. He stepped out and brushed off his recently laundered suit, then went up and knocked on the door. The door swung open, and Geoff saw… nobody. He felt a light pressure on his knees, glanced down, and instinctively groaned.

A toddler with incredibly messy hands had latched into his suit pants, with some kind of goopy food- applesauce, maybe- now running down his leg. The child laughed and ran back inside, leaving Geoff standing there with applesauce pants. A somewhat short woman wearing scrubs stepped out into Geoff’s view, noticing him almost immediately. She smiled gently.

“Sorry about Olivia. You must be Geoff, right? I'm Laurie, Ryan’s my husband.” she asked, offering a hand. Geoff took it and chuckled. He did not expect Ryan to have kids.

“No, I remember when my little girl was about this age.” He rubbed his neck. “I'll just have to get it cleaned again.” Great. Another quarter down the drain. “Can I come in?”

“Sure thing. I'll get Ryan for you.” Laurie walked to the stairs of the house as Geoff walked in and looked around at the welcoming home. It was clear that this was the home of two very busy individuals. The TV was tuned to  _ On the Spot _ , which seemed to have pacified one of the children, but the applesauce child was still amok. As Laurie passed, she scooped up the wild child and carried her upstairs. For the meantime, Geoff just leaned against the wall and whistled a little bit.

When Ryan came downstairs, it wasn’t at all what Geoff expected. He wasn't wearing the face paint that Geoff had come to know and love, he didn't have on any form of skull mask, and he wasn't even murdering anyone. He was just wearing a graphic tee and holding a can of diet eCola, all… normal like. It was, to be honest, creepier than seeing Ryan with his whole ‘probably a serial killer’ getup. 

“Oh, hey, man.” Ryan raised the can of soda in acknowledgement of Geoff. “How’s it going? Glad you could make it up here.”

“Ryan? Jesus, dude, you look… wow, man. Where’s the face paint?” asked Geoff.

“Well, I can’t wear it all the time. Shit gets expensive.”

“What'd you call me up here for, anyway?” Geoff shook his head.

“I got an idea to make us some money. Here, c’mon up to the attic.” Ryan smiled in a creepily non-creepy way and half-jogged up the stairs. Geoff followed after him. This had to be a dream. It was too normal. This couldn't really be Ryan, could it-

The attic set Geoff at ease in the worst way possible. This was definitely Ryan, he was sure of it now. The thing that really confirmed that this was his friend was the fact that there was a live cow just hanging out, not even restrained or anything. The things that supported that conclusion were the various haphazard gadgets and such littered about the attic on tables and the floor. Ryan walked into the room and snapped his fingers.

“Edgar, screwdriver,” he commanded. Geoff watched on in astonishment as the cow let out a gentle moo and bumbled over to Ryan. It appeared to be holding the screwdriver he wanted in its mouth, and it dropped it into his hand. He began working on what looked like a bear trap, occasionally taking a sip of his soda and running a hand through his hair.

“Why the fuck do you have a cow in the attic?” Geoff pointed to Edgar, having one of his frequent moments of crippling disbelief. The cow walked over to Geoff and began licking the applesauce off of his knees.

“Well, he was in the basement, but we had a pipe burst so we had to move him up here,” Ryan casually explained.

“That's not what I- I mean- oh, fuck it.” Geoff groaned. “So what's your moneymaking plan?”

“Oh, that.” Ryan took a quick break and crossed his arms, giving a cute little smirk. “We’re gonna hit an armored truck.”

**TOTAL CREW DEBT: $1000.75**


	6. Haywood Ya Heist It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With Ryan's heist plan just around the corner, the crew puts down the most money they ever have for a heist to have a shot at the largest potential take they've ever had. Will Ryan's criminal instinct help the crew achieve their first success?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one took me a long time. Ryan's heist, more than most, went wrong because of mechanics in GTA and I had to find a way to transfer it over. Also, I had to watch the intro like five times to understand his original plan.

“...and a gas station.” Ryan leaned back against the wall, having just relayed the basis of his plan to the crew. He smirked and took a sip of diet soda. Pretty much everyone groaned.

“So you think that because we can’t do one heist…” Michael sat forward. “We should try two?”

“We need to redeem ourselves from the last heists. So we’re going to hit my target-” Ryan pointed to Gavin. “-and his.”

“Wot?” Gavin sat straight up. “We’re gonna- the toss are you jabbering on about?”

“Simple. We hit a truck, then we hit a store.” Ryan pointed to a map he’d hung up on the wall. “The truck’s coming through here, and then heading up the highway north. The plan is to hit it, secure the money, and then go rob Gavin’s gas station.”

“Didn’t Gavin’s gas station explode? Like, hardcore?” asked Geoff.

“Actually, I took a look at Gavin’s planning files. He had us mark the wrong store. So we’re going to hit his ACTUAL target.” Ryan pointed to a crudely drawn mushroom cloud on the map. “This is what we hit.” He moved his finger a few blocks east. “And this is what Gavin meant for us to hit. Now, notice the subway stop right nearby. Keep that in mind, it’ll be important later. Now, one of our main problems is that we've been going straight free-to-play on this. Crime is pay-to-win, gentlemen and lady.” He crossed his arms. “For this job, I've already paid for a number of expenses. You're all getting masks and rifles, and you can keep them when we’re done. We’re going to make about nine or ten grand from this.” Ryan leaned forward onto the table. “So here’s the play.”

“We’ll divide into three teams. The first team will be Jack, Michael, and Gavin in a helicopter with a cargo hook on it. The second will be myself and Geoff in cars on the ground. Last, Ray will be posted on top of a parking structure here. Geoff and I will tail the truck until the chopper’s ready. When chopper team is good to go, we’ll box in the truck. I'll plant an explosive on the doors and Jack will airlift the truck away. Jack then carries the truck over Ray, who’s holding the detonator. The cops will expect us to set it down, so we’re going to blow it open in midair. The money will fall onto the parking structure, which is approximately when Geoff and I will arrive at the parking structure. Michael and Gavin will parachute out of the chopper and meet us on the parking structure. Jack will drop the truck in the ocean while the rest of us load up into three motorcycles-”

“Goddammit,” mumbled Michael.

“-and we take off for the subway. Jack will fly overhead and jump ship, so the cops think she's dead. Ray will pick up Jack and we’ll drive our bikes through the subway, coming out at Gavin’s target. Michael and Gav rob the place, Geoff and I will go secure boats, the four of you will escape down Del Perro pier and dive off the end into our boats. Then we drive out into the ocean to escape.” Ryan leaned back against the wall. “Any questions?”

“Why do we always have the getaway vehicle be a motorcycle?” asked Michael, rubbing his arm as he remembered how the last two heists had played out for him.

“Because cars wouldn't be able to go off the parking structure jump.” Ryan shrugged.

“Wait, there's a jump?” Ray sounded shocked.

“Set it up this morning.” Ryan shrugged. “Alright, let's hit the streets. Everything should be in position.”

* * *

 

The LSPD had a decently nice HQ downtown, and the interrogation rooms were reflective of this. Kerry noted the obvious one way glass, fluorescent mood lighting, and general chrome appearance. His attention was snapped back to Detective Marquis in front of him when said detective slammed his hand on the table.

“Focus, Shawcross. The higher ups are pressing me to get more info out of you, so I need you to help me out here.” Marquis slid a picture of a red-faced man across the table. “You know this guy, Kerry?”

“...I feel like I've seen him before, but the name’s not ringing a bell.” Kerry scratched his head. “Sorry, dude.”

“That's fine, Kerry. How about her?” Marquis took back the picture of the red-faced man and instead put forward a picture of a red haired woman.

“Oh… yeah! That’s Lindsay.”

“Lindsay?” The detective leaned in. “What’s she like?”

“Uh, she’s got lots of connections. Like, I bet you that FAK or whatever you called them get her to help out. She’s the one who called me up.” Kerry explained. “She’s dating one of them, I think. Not sure, though.”

“Not FAK, Kerry. FAHC. They’re FAHC. Here in Los Santos, we use FAHC as slang for Fearsome and Hardened Criminals. I know they must not seem very scary, given their rate of failure, but we still haven’t been able to kill any of them yet, which is weird.” The detective sat back and smiled. “So, Lindsay, huh? Thanks, Kerry, that’s all I needed for the day. You’re free to go.”

“Okay. Same time tomorrow?” Kerry stood up and smiled nervously, then walked out of the room.

* * *

 

Jacqueline Pattillo was in love. This chopper that Ryan had sourced was… well, to be completely honest, it wasn’t it all that great. It pulled a little bit to the left, and it wheezed a little getting off the ground, but there was nothing she loved more than soaring into the great blue yonder, no matter how cheap the method. Michael and Gavin were a bit less thrilled. When you’re hanging out the side of a helicopter with just your grip strength and a parachute and a gun, you’re a bit tense. They all had already put on their heist masks, courtesy of Ryan. The masks were adorned with images of popular Los Santos tourism spots, like the Vinewood sign and the ferris wheel at Del Perro.

On the ground, Geoff Ramsey was significantly less in love with the Los Santos traffic. They’d been waiting for quite a while for the armored truck to pass. Ryan sat in a car next to him, and the two of them were in an alley off to the side, waiting to trap the truck. There was a tracker on Ryan’s phone that was following the position of the truck, and he was watching it intently. For this heist, the ground crew had portable radios and the chopper team had radio headsets. The little blip on Ryan’s phone approached his own blip, and he pulled into drive…

And then the armored truck turned down a side street. Ryan panicked and grabbed his radio.

“We gotta move! It’s taking a detour!” he yelled, trying to find an opening to go into traffic. “Chopper, keep eyes on it! Geoff, let’s go!”

Michael leaned a bit further out of his side of the chopper and scanned the traffic below. “It’s heading through Vinewood! Looks like it’s going for the freeway!” he yelled. Jack nodded and tilted her chopper to follow after the truck. Ryan and Geoff eventually just forced their way into traffic, starting to weave through the rush hour congestion towards their target.

“We’re going out of town! Come on, guys, you gotta catch up quick!” shouted Jack as she put the whirlybird through its paces. Geoff and Ryan finally broke free of the traffic jam and put the pedal to the medal, trying not to lose the truck.

Ray was chilling on top of a parking structure downtown, eating a dollar menu cheeseburger. He was leaning against a motorcycle with his sniper rifle strapped across his back, Ryan’s gift of an assault rifle leaning against the bike next to him, and his radio at his hip playing the sounds of the shenanigans unfolding just northeast of his position. He sighed, finished up the burger, and slipped on his mask.

“Man, sure sounds exciting,” he commented to no one in particular.

Geoff reached the truck first and power slid in front of it, which proved to be a bad idea when the truck ran into the side of his car. The window shattered and Geoff was left with a few cuts, but he was mostly fine. As he escaped from the car from the passenger side, Ryan pulled in to block the armored truck’s rear escape and got out. He pulled an explosive out of his satchel and stuck it onto the back of the truck, then used his radio to signal Jack.

The chopper seemed to be able to go down perfectly fine, though even that wasn't promising. Still, Jack managed to position herself over the truck and hover at such a level that the hook was ready to be attached. Ryan and Geoff scrambled onto the roof of the truck quick as you like and jabbed the hook into the roof of the truck. Once they were satisfied with it’s security, they hit the bottom of the chopper a couple of times and the whole contraption began taking off. Right before it got too high, they slid off and hit the pavement, rolling to ensure safety and to look cool as hell.

The cargo helicopter groaned and wheezed as it hauled its payload into the sky, with Jack fighting gravity in a no-holds-barred throwdown all the way up. Gavin spotted a police chopper approaching in the distance, and pointed it out to the rest of the crew. Geoff and Ryan scrambled for their cars, until Geoff noticed the level of fucked that his driver’s side door was. He couldn't open it, no matter how hard he tried. With a groan, he turned to Ryan and shouted.

“Hey, I need to ride with you!” he called, rushing over. Ryan unlocked the car and Geoff got in. They drove like maniacs for the parking structure.

The chopper was fucked. Jack was almost entirely sure that the rear propellers had stopped working, and if there was any fuel left in the tank, it was about to burst out the bottom. Before any of those things could happen, the cable holding up the truck snapped in half. Michael, Gavin, and Jack felt the chopper list to the left with wild abandon as their payday fell to earth, resting on its side against a telephone pole. Try as Jack may, she couldn't stabilize the helicopter before the whole thing tilted on its side. Gavin fell out first, dying on impact with the ground. Then the chopper crashed on top of him, which killed Jack immediately. Finally, a barely-alive Michael managed to crawl his way out of the wreckage and see at least three sirens before the cops around those sirens shot him in the already-battered skull.

Ryan and Geoff pulled up to the scene of devastation and watched as a group of several cops approached the back of the armored truck. Ryan had an idea and reached down to grab his radio.

“Ray. I need you to detonate. Right now.” Ryan spoke gravely, but a hint of a devilish smirk had managed to work its way onto his face. Geoff nodded and covered his ears, waiting for the blast. Ray reached over to his detonator and smirked before he gave it a quick squeeze.

Nothing happened. 

“Did you hit it?” Ryan spoke again.

“Yeah, I think it’s busted.” Ray shook his head. “We ever gonna get a detonator that works?”

“It’s probably just out of range. You stay put, I’m gonna set the manual timer.” Ryan opened the door and picked up his rifle. “C’mon, Geoff.”

The two stepped out of the car and moved on the truck, quickly managing to eliminate the police distracted by the bomb. Ryan jogged up to the sideways truck and knelt down in front of the explosive he’d placed. He heard sirens grow closer, doors slam, and police voices shouting as he tried to concentrate on his delicate work. Right as he was about to start the timer, he felt a hand on his shoulder.

Ryan’s criminal instinct kicked in and he spun around, firing his pistol into that person’s stomach. But where he expected to see a police uniform and badge, he instead saw a beat up tux and smelled a faint bit of whiskey. Geoff toppled backwards with a groan and died on the ground, blood slowly pooling around him. Ryan gasped and picked up his radio.

“Geoff’s down, Ray. I need you to come meet me here.”

“Did you kill him, Ryan?”

“It was an accident, I swear.”

“I fucking hate you, Ryan.” Ray got onto one of the motorcycles. “I’m gonna take the jump anyway, okay? Okay.” He strapped his weapons up and kicked the bike into gear, aiming for the jump.

The jump didn’t go well for Ray. He didn’t pick up enough speed, and couldn’t clear the building next to the parking structure. This ended with him bouncing off the roof, falling off the bike, and ending up stuck on the roof as his bike fell over the side. He picked up his radio.

“Ryan, I think I need you to pick me up.”

* * *

 

Once Ryan had detonated the explosive, packed the money into his car, killed a few cops, and driven to Ray, he was sweating quite a bit. A bit of the stress was relieved when he saw Ray sitting on top of the building and hanging out like nothing was wrong. He helped Ray down the building by positioning his car so that Ray could jump to it without hurting himself, and then the two just headed for the subway without the bikes. The car ride was mostly quiet, but shortly after they saw the subway entrance, Ray glanced over.

“So, uh… why’d ya kill Geoff, Ryan?”

“Mistook him for a cop.” Ryan grumbled, aiming the car at the subway. “Hold onto something.”

With no more than that, Ryan floored it and drove the car down into the subway, honking and giving pedestrians just enough time to dive out of the way. He managed to ramp up with a bench and hop over the turnstiles, but the car met its end at the final stairs down to the subway platform. Ryan and Ray got out together and hustled down the stairs, running into the tunnel past terrified pedestrians. As they jogged down the tunnel, Ryan kept the sack of cash over his shoulder.

“So, we’re still gonna hit the store?” asked Ray, squinting into the darkness ahead. Ryan nodded.

“Yeah, we might as well…”

The duo ran out to a section of the subway where two tracks shared one tunnel and Ray slowed down. 

“Hey, man, let's slow down for a sec. We don't want to get too tired out.” He stood on the little partition between the two tracks and Ryan came and joined him. Once again, Ryan’s criminal nature sprang up. As the sound of an approaching subway train began to reach his ears, he slipped a hand down to his pistol and shrugged.

“I mean, we’re at the point where… I guess, there doesn't have to be  _ two  _ of us…” he slyly said.

“Don't you fucking do it.” Ray growled. Ryan drew the pistol and brought it up towards Ray, but Ray used a quick motion to knock the gun off course. He used this change in momentum to send Ryan spinning around, and then used a combination of quick hands and quick feet to send the traitorous bastard onto the tracks just as the train came by. Ryan splattered for quite a ways down the tunnel, his dying laugh still haunting the stale subterranean air. After taking a second to recover, Ray salvaged all the money he could from the tunnel and emerged as the sole survivor. He ditched his mask and gun in the tunnel and held tightly onto the money he’d managed to recover- four hundred dollar bills, and nothing more. He heard a few groans come in through the radio, the ones typical of the other crew members waking up, and he sighed, picking it up to talk.

“You're a real piece of shit, Ryan.”

 

**TOTAL CREW DEBT: $3626.75**


	7. Dooley Noted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A new player hits the LS criminal scene and meets a few important people along the way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, it's been a little while, huh? This is just an inbetween chapter that'll tie in later. The main crew's coming up next, so don't you worry your pretty little head!

Los Santos International Airport was always bustling with activity, and today was no different. People from all over the States were heading to the beautiful city for vacation, or business, or visiting family and friends. However, at least one person at LSIA that day was there for new opportunities- of the criminal variety. 

A man walked out of the airport doors with a suitcase and a slight grin, wearing an orange t-shirt and khakis. He covered his eyes from the bright sunlight and looked around. His phone beeped from his pocket, so he took a look. 

[AxialMatt: hey dude, i had to stay at my place cause i’m waiting to sign for a package]

[AxialMatt: so i sent someone to get you]

[JDoolz: so who’d you send?]

[AxialMatt: eh you’ll see]

JDoolz, also known as Jeremy Dooley, looked up and peered around once more. As he did, a bicycle bell rang from close behind him. He whipped around and saw a young child, maybe 8 or 9, holding out a 3x5 index card to him and smiling. Before the kid rode off, she cheered.

“Come to the Griffon sometime!” With a couple of pedals, she was gone, leaving Jeremy with the card. On the card was printed a series of addresses with numbers next to each. With a drawn out groan, Jeremy set off for the first one listed.

* * *

 

The address was a house on Forum Drive. Jeremy just had his suitcase with him, hauling it out of the taxi he’d taken. He walked up to the front door and knocked, stepping back and glancing around warily. For all he knew, that kid at the airport could be part of a trap. His fist curled into a ball as he waited for whoever lived here. The door swung open and there stood a tall man, with a green short sleeve button down over a dark shirt with the sleeves pushed up around his elbows. The man wore a ring or two and a green hat with LS printed on it in white. He took one look at Jeremy and chuckled.

“Shit, you must be Matt’s boy. Welcome to LS, motherfucker. The name’s Lamar Davis, but you can call me LD. Word on the street is you need a piece and I'm here to hook you up.” Lamar pulled out a pistol and tossed it haphazardly to Jeremy, who flicked the safety on and tucked it away. “Aight, white boy, you call me up if you ever need somethin’. Maybe I’ll help.” The tall man turned around and walked back inside, leaving Jeremy to consult the next address on his list.

* * *

 

Gunshots rang out through the city as Jeremy approached the next location. He rolled up with his suitcase and looked around. The only person there, other than the taxi that was now driving away, was a tall lanky man in a grey t-shirt on his phone. He looked up at Jeremy and raised an eyebrow.

“Jesus, man. What the hell are you wearing?” He shook his head and pulled out a stack of money. “There’s a clothing store on the other side of this block. Go get yourself something better to wear.” The man tossed it to Jeremy, who shrugged and walked to the clothing store.

He walked back a little while later with the exact same clothes, except he was wearing a violently purple suit jacket, sunglasses, and a cowboy hat. The man was still there, and seemed to become slightly ill at the sight of Jeremy.

“Wow, dude. You’re a disaster. The name’s Treyco, by the way. I’ll call you. Go talk to Matt.” Treyco shooed Jeremy away, then went back to doing… whatever on his phone. Jeremy just shrugged and called another taxi.

* * *

 

After a conversation about how he might as well just buy the taxi company at this point, Jeremy arrived at the third location on his list. It was a rundown apartment on South Rockford Drive with a blue and white paint job. The corner of the second floor formed the overhang of the entrance, and Jeremy stepped under to buzz apartment 13. The door clicked open, and he walked inside.

Apartment 13 was filthy. There were beer bottles, bags of chips, donut boxes, cookie trays, and soda cans, all empty and strewn about the place. There was also a bong on the table and the TV was on to a news channel about some convenience store robbery. From the bedroom off to the side, a man in a red hoodie with headphones to match peeked out and smiled. He had long, greasy brown hair and a beard.

“Hey, JDoolz. Good to meet you, dude. Like, in person meet you, I mean. We’ve met. You know that. Welcome to Los Santos! You look like shit. What’s up with the hat, dude? Shit, is that what East Coasters wear? Thought that was a South thing. Anyway, I’m Matt, ya know, AxialMatt, Matt comma Axial. You know that too. Want a beer?” Matt offered an unopened bottle. Jeremy took it and cracked it as he cracked a smile, taking a swig.

“Dude, thanks. I’m parched. My throat hurts so much, I haven’t said a damn word since I got here.” He chugged the rest of it. “So, am I staying here?”

“Yeah, man, you can have the couch.” Matt pointed to the filthy couch. “Don’t worry. The bed’s not much better.”

* * *

 

That night, as Jeremy laid on the couch, trying to deal with the jet lag, his phone vibrated. He picked it up and answered, not recognizing the number.

“Hey, it’s Jeremy.”

“Jeremy Dooley, right?” An unfamiliar voice spoke.

“Yeah. Who is this?” he yawned, rubbing his eyes.

“The name’s Geoff. A little birdie told me you’re new in town, and I’m willing to offer you a bit of cash if you help me out.”

“What am I doing?”

“Nothing big, to start with. I’ll call you when I need help. It’ll just be something like moving a vehicle to a position.”

“Aight. Night. Love you.” Jeremy hung up and yawned again, drifting off to sleep.

* * *

 

The next morning, Jeremy woke to the sound of a woman’s voice and Matt’s voice. He sat up and rubbed his eyes, donning his brand-spankin’ new cowboy hat. The woman, a redhead, looked over and waved.

“Mornin’!” she cheerily called. Jeremy flipped her off. “Nice to meet you too, sunshine! I’m Lindsay.” Jeremy pulled himself out of “bed” and got up, looking up at Lindsay as she handed him a donut. “Geez, what are you, like, 5’3? Good thing you’re buff. Anyway, Matt, I’ll catch you around.” She punched both of them affectionately and left. Jeremy bit into his donut and spit it out immediately, coughing.

“What the fuck is this?” He practically interrogated Matt.

“What the fuck is what?” Matt responded, putting his hands up.

“Is this what passes for a fucking donut here? Goddamn.” He walked away, shaking his head. Matt jogged after him. 

Jeremy stopped in front of the window and leaned on it, looking out the window and sighing. “Well, I’m gonna make it work. Yo, Matt, first thing I do when I get loaded is I’m gonna buy all the donut shops in Los Santos. And then I’m gonna make ‘em do things right.”

“Hey, man, at least you’ve got a plan. That’s more than me.” Matt shrugged. “But, you know, donuts or no donuts, I got a feeling you’re gonna shake shit up around here.” Jeremy smirked at that and glanced over at Matt.

“Just you wait.”


	8. Enter the Dragonface

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The plot thickens! Kerry goes through a series of trials to get in with the crew, but will he be found out as a mole?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is probably the hardest chapter in terms of trying to make it make sense, given the source video.

“You need to get in closer, Kerry.” Detective Marquis turned dramatically. “The big cats are pushing me for more intel than you’re providing. Here’s some extra cash, for causing you so much trouble.” He tossed Kerry a stack of bills. “I’m sorry to have to ask you to get so close to such dangerous people, but you know the good you’re doing.”

Kerry nodded. “Don’t worry, Aaron, I can do it!” He smiled and stood up. “I’ll call ya later! We still on for drinks later?”

“You bet.” Aaron smiled back and saluted casually. “Good luck out there, Dragonface.”

* * *

 

 

Kerry arrived at Geoff’s apartment later and knocked on the door. When the door swung open, he saw all six of the crew staring at him, with unusually stern looks on their faces. His heart jumped into his throat. Had they figured him out? He was sure he was about to be blasted away. Michael, who had answered the door, grabbed Kerry’s collar and threw him in. The sound of the door slamming behind him caused Kerry to flinch, and he found himself looking up at Geoff himself. 

“Hey, kid. You want to be a part of our crew?” He leaned down to confront Kerry directly. “You’re gonna have to earn it. Come on, we’re heading downtown.” The crew stood up and began to head out, each patting Kerry with various levels of intensity as they went. He scrambled to his feet, grateful to be alive, and followed them.

The FAHC climbed into their cars and sped off, with Kerry riding squished between Ray and Gavin in the back of Jack’s car. For the entire ride, it became increasingly apparent to Kerry that these guys were mad at him for something. The car slammed to a stop and everyone piled out, leaving Kerry confused and with a mild case of whiplash. When he managed to scoot out of the side door, he saw the six criminals standing together with another car behind them. Geoff stepped forward.

“Alright, kid, your first task is to get into this car and start it without the alarm going off. Think you can handle that?” They parted the way to let Kerry at the vehicle, and, luckily, he was prepared. With a quick bit of handiwork, a paper clip, and a bit of luck, he managed to get the door open and sat inside. Now came the tough part- hotwiring. 

I’m no expert on hotwiring, so whatever the hell Kerry did, he sure did it well. The car fired up, and, as Kerry sat back up, he saw the check engine light blinking. And then blinking faster. And then emitting a low beeping noise.

He flung open the door and threw himself out, scattering away and diving as the car exploded, sending a fireball into the sky. Kerry picked himself up and brushed himself off, breathing heavily. Geoff walked over and patted him on the back.

“Good catch, kid. C’mon, we gotta get out of here.” They all got back into their cars and drove off, Kerry in tow.

* * *

 

The next stop was a random intersection on the western side of Los Santos. Kerry sat at one corner, and the rest of the crew stood across the way diagonally. Gavin waved from the cattycorner and called out through cupped hands.

“YOU ALL GOOD OVER THERE?” he yelled. “ALRIGHT, SO, WHAT WE’RE GONNA DO IS-”

Kerry abruptly stopped listening to Gavin as someone ran into him full force from behind, knocking him to the ground. He could swear that they also reached into his pocket, but right now he was focusing on how much his head hurt. He didn’t know how long it took him to get up, but by the time he did, the mugger was gone. The crew was laughing hysterically across the way and motioned for him to come back. He grumbled, hoping that Aaron would be able to replace the money out of his pocket, and started back across the intersection.

* * *

 

Jeremy ducked into an alleyway, holding Kerry’s money close to his chest. He took off his hat and peeked around the corner to see if he was being followed. Quickly, he counted the dollars and frowned as he discovered that Kerry had been carrying about $1,500 in his pocket. As he sifted through the bills, he found a little white note tucked in between them.

_ Kerry,  _ the note read,  _ I have a suspicion that, somehow, some way, the FAHC have become immortal. I know it sounds weird, but it makes sense. Obviously, I can’t tell the big cats, I’ll get laughed at. But see if you can find anything out about it. See you later. -Aaron. _

Jeremy raised an eyebrow and tucked the money and note away. He then pulled out his phone and dialed Lamar.

“Hey, Lamar… yeah, I did it. He had about… about two hundred on him. Yeah, I’ll give you your fifty percent. Alright. See you later.” He hung up and donned his cowboy hat, walking down the street away from where he hit Kerry.

* * *

 

“Man, he took all my money,” Kerry grumbled in the car. Ray patted his back and glanced over.

“If you’re strapped for cash, I could show you a couple ways to stretch a dollar for dinner,” he offered.

“Nah, I’m good.” Kerry waved him off. “Let’s just get this done with. What’s next?”

“From what I hear-” Jack turned back and brushed some hair out of her face. “-Michael put this next one in. So we may just be beating the shit out of you.” She laughed as Kerry went pale. “C’mon, Shawcross, we’re here.”

Kerry looked out the window and saw the familiar flaming wreck of a car from the first so-called trial, which now had crime scene tape all around it. Police sat around, taking notes and examining the scene. Jack looked at her phone.

“Ah, shit. Alright, Shawcross, change of plans. This one’s a two step-plan. Step one, you get out of the car and punch a cop. Step two, you meet us back at the apartment after having dropped the heat. Cool? Cool.” Jack gave a thumbs up. Ray tossed Kerry out of the car and the crew sped off. Kerry brushed himself off and looked at the cops, walking up to them. He had to do it, because if he didn’t, then he’d be letting Aaron down. The FAHC probably had some way of knowing if he did it or not too. So he approached a cop, waved slightly, mumbled a greeting, and shouted “I’M SORRY” as he socked them in the face.

* * *

 

 

Lindsay watched from a nearby rooftop as Kerry took off sprinting across the square with three or four police officers in hot-heeled pursuit. She called Geoff and chuckled.

“He actually did it. Motherfucker actually did it.”

“Shit, you serious?”

“No kidding. He’s haulin’ ass across the pavement now.”

“Fucking idiot.” Geoff laughed. “Alright, thanks, TuggLife. Head over to the fire station. Thanks for your help.”

“No prob. See you around.”

* * *

 

Kerry leapt with surprising agility over obstacles in his effort to escape his pursuers. He hopped a few railings, jumped over benches, and even got up a fairly tall ledge. As he ran, he struggled to pull out his phone and quickly called Aaron, who picked up on the second ring.

“Hey, Dragonface. How’s it going?” asked the detective, calmly kicking his feet up onto his desk.

“To get in with the crew, they wanted me to punch a cop and I did and now I need your help!”

“Alright, buddy. Hold on a minute.” Aaron hung up and pulled out his radio. “This is Detective Marquis, would there happen to be a 35/10-61R going on in progress at the moment?”

“Sure is, Detective,” came back the voice.

“And who am I speaking to right now?”

“Officer Demarais, Detective.”

“Ah, Officer Demarais. Could you do me a favor and call off any and all officers currently in pursuit?”

“Um… o-okay, Detective.”

“By the way, Officer, I heard you were being transferred to the helicopter division. Congratulations are in order.”

“Oh! Oh, uh, yeah. Thank you, Detective.”

“Anytime. Swing by my office, I’ll pour you a drink.”

Aaron smiled and set down his radio, expecting a call from Kerry, which came quite soon. 

“Hey, they backed off! You must have a lot of power around the LSPD,” commented Kerry.

“Oh, it’s not really like that. I’m just a guy people like to like. Are you doing alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. I’m making it through.” Kerry smiled.

“Don’t hurt yourself. I’m rooting for you.” With a click, Aaron hung up again. Kerry nodded as he began to jog towards Geoff’s apartment.

* * *

 

A good portion of the crew didn’t expect to see Kerry again, and none of them expected to see him so soon. But there he was, in the doorway of Geoff’s apartment, none the worse for wear except for the fact that he was a bit sweaty. He smiled nervously and waved.

“Hey, guys. I did it. No heat.”

“Huh.” was all Geoff could muster. “Well, I guess we’re moving on to the next thing then. What’s, uh… what’s the next thing?” 

“Let’s see...” Jack pulled out a notepad and consulted it. “Parachutes.”

“Alright, y’all, we’re headed for the Maze Bank building.” Geoff got up and headed out.

* * *

 

Jack sourced a chopper, so the crew piled in and took themselves up to the top of the tallest building in Los Santos. They landed on the helipad and all got out, except for Jack, who lifted off and flew to a much shorter, nearby roof. Gavin handed Kerry a parachute and motioned for him to wait, and then the entire crew jumped off the side of the building, pulling their own chutes and landing on the other building. Kerry’s phone rang.

“Alright, just, do that,” said Geoff. Kerry groaned and put on his chute, making sure he knew where the cord was before jumping off.

* * *

 

Ray watched through a sniper scope as Kerry’s chute deployed. He waited for Geoff’s signal, then shot a small tear in the chute right next to the edge. Nothing that would make Kerry drop outright, just made it harder to control. The whole crew then watched as Kerry struggled to stay on target and disappeared below the overhang of their building.

 

Kerry abandoned the plan and just went to land on the street, but when he did, a woman ran up to him and plowed into him like Jeremy had before, this time stealing his phone. He yanked off the chute and gave chase into the building she’d run into, following up the flights and flights of stairs to the roof. She slammed the door to the roof behind her, but Kerry barreled through, being caught off guard by the burst of sunlight. When he recovered, he saw her fly off the edge of the building, pulling her own parachute, and Geoff Ramsey standing there with Kerry’s phone.

“You gotta start watching out for this shit, man,” he teased. Naturally, the rest of the crew was behind him laughing.

* * *

 

Jack set the chopper down in a fairly remote location- a scrapyard on the eastern edge of the state. This time, she got out with the rest of the crew, who stood behind Kerry as he looked around, trying to figure out the next trial.

“Hey, Kerry?” she asked, crossing her arms.

“Yeah?” He turned around to face her.

“I messed up.  _ This _ is the one that Michael put in.” Just as she finished her sentence, Michael stepped in front of Kerry and knocked him to the ground with a mean right hook. The crew jumped around him, kicking him and punching him as he covered his face.

“IS THIS REALLY A THING THAT AMERICAN GANGS DO?” yelled Gavin over the sound of repeated impacts.

“PROBABLY NOT!” shouted Michael.

After about thirty seconds, the crew let up and helped Kerry back to his feet. They all kinda half-apologized and got back into the chopper. Jack even handed Kerry some ice, although he didn’t know where to put it first with how bruised he was. He grumbled a bit as they took off for the final location.

* * *

 

Their last spot was a highway just north of the city, with very little traffic. The crew plus Kerry sat on the side of the road, waiting for Lindsay to arrive with something that the crew hinted at being very, very spectacular. As they waited, Kerry ran through a list of options in his head. Tank? No, there’s no way. Cargo plane? No, there was nowhere to land it. How about- wait, were those sirens?

Lindsay drove in a fire truck on full tilt, with sirens and horn all going. She stopped in front of the crew and hopped out, laughing.

“Alright, guys, it’s all you!” she called before jogging off. Gavin sprung up and got behind the wheel, and the other guys all got in or on, leaving Kerry wondering as to where he’d go.

“Hey, where do I go?” he asked, jogging up to the driver’s side door and looking up. Gavin leaned out of the side. 

“Innit obvious?” He motioned to the front bumper. “Last task, boi! Hold on!”

“Fuck me,” Kerry muttered, hopping onto the front bumper and gripping the grill with all his might.

The truck began to accelerate, and Kerry felt his life flash before his eyes. As the wind ruffled his hair, he pressed his face against the windshield glass and closed his eyes, trying to imagine a weird rollercoaster. Once they got up to a sufficient speed, Gavin began to weave back and forth, trying to shake Kerry off. Ryan, who was in the passenger seat, shouted over to Gavin.

“I thought you didn’t know how to drive!”

“I can drive a fire truck!” he yelled.

The truck barreled forward and north, heading further and further away from the city. After a while of highway driving, Gavin took them up through the forest to Mount Chilliad, weaving and winding on the bumpy roads that made holding his grip that much harder for Kerry. They soon reached a tunnel and drove completely straight, to Kerry’s relief, but, to his concern, he saw Gavin and Ryan making panicky faces and pointing ahead. For the first time, he looked over his shoulder and saw an old wooden bridge that absolutely wouldn’t support the weight of a fire truck even if it was intact. At this moment, the bridge was snapped clean in half, and there was no way they could make a jump like that.

Kerry could hear Gavin shout “BAIL” over the rushing wind and saw Ryan and Gavin dive out of the side doors, but when he went to jump to the side, he saw that he’d run out of room and was on a narrow dirt path with sheer drops on either side. Based solely on instinct, Kerry scrambled up and over, sprinting along the top of the fire truck. Just as he was about to jump, his foot caught on something and he tumbled, managing to swing all his weight forward so he fell off instead of being dragged down to earth with the truck. Still, he made it just in the nick of time and felt his feet hit the first plank of the bridge before he stopped sliding along the ground.

As he stood up, he saw the crew running towards him, and smiled, brushing himself off.

“So… am I in?” he asked as the sound of the fire truck tumbling down the mountain turned into the sound of the fire truck exploding down the mountain.

“...Yeah, kid. You’re in,” Geoff smiled. “Come on, you want to go get drinks?”

“I’ll take you up on that another time. I’d just like a ride back into town.” He paused, and chuckled. “I’m kinda already… doing something tonight.”

* * *

 

That evening, Kerry walked into a small LS bar and sat on a stool. He was greeted warmly by the man who already sat there: LSPD’s own Aaron Marquis. Aaron slid Kerry a drink and smiled, raising his glass.

“You’re a brave man, Dragonface,” he complimented, affectionately using Kerry’s self given nickname. “Seems like the hard part’s over. Now you just lie low and soak up information.”

“You got it, Aaron.”


	9. Jonesing for a Score

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's heist day once again! This time, Michael has a plan to score some cash to pay Burnie back, but, with Kerry filling in for Jack, will the crew be able to pull it off? Will the new kid live up to everyone's expectations? Will Kerry's acquaintance to the LSPD rear its ugly head? Will I ever stop making these chapter titles name puns? Let's find out!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm realizing now that as I go on and on I have to stretch the story more and more to fit into the actual videos. Whoops.

“Hold still, you big baby.” Jack pressed the antiseptic pad onto one of the cuts Gavin received from diving out of the fire truck, watching him wince. She chuckled softly. “Gavin, you blew up a gas station. You can handle some goddamn disinfectant.”

“It stings, though,” Gavin whined.

“Do they not have antiseptic in England?”

“No, it stings there too.”

“Hey, guys,” Michael greeted as he walked in the door.

“What’s up, boi?” Gavin waved.

“I’m working on an idea for a heist. You guys free two days from now to meet up and go over the details?”

“Yeah, sure.” Jack nodded and turned back to Gavin. “Now, are you gonna hold still, or am I going to have to knock you out to do this?”

 

* * *

 

 

Two days later, Michael’s phone rang at about 8 in the morning. He felt around the nightstand blindly and picked it up, holding to his ear as he was still mostly asleep.

“Hello?” he mumbled softly, trying not to wake Lindsay.

“Michael, it’s Jack.” came the stuffed-up reply.

“Jack? You sound like shit.”

“I’m sick. Bad. I can’t make it today.”

“Really? Damn, alright. It’s a six man job, though…”  
“Call… call Kerry or something.”

“You sure? It’s dangerous. Especially since he hasn’t… you know… done the whole cube thing.”

“You saw how much shit he survived the other day. He’ll be fine.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.” Michael sighed. “Take care of yourself.”

“You too. Keep me posted.” Jack hung up and glanced over at the door to her room as Caiti entered.

“Here you are.” Caiti set down a bowl of chicken noodle soup on a tray next to the bed. “I’ve got a trial to go to today, but I’ll come back when I can, alright? Try not to die.”

“Thanks, you’re the best.” Jack attempted a smile.

“Love you too.” Caiti kissed the top of Jack’s head and walked out of the room.

 

* * *

 

 

“Jack’s not gonna be here.” Michael walked into the planning room with that opening line. “So, I’ve brought in the new kid. You all know Kerry.” Kerry waved. “Alright, now that fuckin’ introductions are over, let’s get planning.”

Michael set out a map of Los Santos on the table and pulled out a permanent marker. He circled the intersection of Alta Street and Vinewood Boulevard and pointed.

“The Pacific Standard Bank. That’s our target. We’ll need a chopper, Lindsay can get us that. We’re also going to need a vehicle posted up by the Vinewood sign. Geoff, you put that there. This heist has two major goals. The first?” He made a one with his finger. “Rob the bank. The second?” Now a two. “Keep Gavin alive. I know it’s unlikely, but I think we can do it. So, here’s how we’re doing it. Three teams. Gavin and me will rob the place. Ray and Ryan will stay outside, fight the good fight. I was going to have Jack and Geoff in the chopper, but Kerry will take Jack’s place. Kerry, you can fly a chopper, right?”

“Yeah, yeah, I can.” Kerry scribbled something on a small notepad in his hand.

“Dude, he’s taking notes. Dude’s prepared,” Ray commented.

“Good, he’ll need ‘em. So, Geoff will shoot out of the side of the chopper. Three way covering fire. When Gav and I have the cash, we’ll book it out of the bank. Ray and Ryan will run with us, covering us, all the way to this alley near a convenience store down the street.” Michael pointed again. “There, I’ll arrange to have two vehicles waiting for us. Gav and I will each take one, then ride through the streets and escape into the subway. We’ll switch over to something much less conspicuous at the end of the subway- bicycles. Then, Gavin and I will ride down to the LS river, hop in a boat, and circle all the way around San Andreas until we reach this beach.” Michael pointed to the final beach. “As for the rest of you, when Gav and I are away, Kerry will land to pick up Ryan and Ray, then drop them off at the Vinewood sign where they’ll get into that vehicle that Geoff plants. Then Geoff and Kerry will fly to this beach here-” Another point. “-and get in a boat of their own, heading for that other beach to meet up with Gavin and I. Ryan and Ray will drive to the beach. We’ll meet up, split the cash, then split up until the heat on us dies down. Sound good?”

“That’s, uh, that’s a lotta running around,” Geoff pointed out.

“I’m making sure that we shake the cops,” replied Michael.

“How much set up time are we going to need?” asked Ryan. Michael’s phone dinged. He took a look, and smiled.

“Lindsay just finished.”

  


* * *

 

 

Lindsay drove the boat that Geoff and Kerry were going to take into the dock and tied it to the post, making sure nobody was looking. She pulled a sticky bomb out of her bag and mounted it right under the seat, turning off the beeping and light. Just as she was about to get out, another boat drove up next to her.

“Hey there!” called a voice. She turned to see a boat identical to hers and a mid-life couple pull into the spot next to hers.”Nice boat there, pal!” said the man. The woman smiled.

“Are you camping here too?” she asked. Lindsay nodded, pulling out the tent and sleeping bag she had stashed away. It was her cover to know when the boat was to blow up. But this couple… They’d be a problem. Lindsay could just kill them and dump their bodies in the water, but… Oh, there’s an idea. She hopped out of the boat and got to work setting up her tent.

“What’s your name?” the man asked, as the woman tied the boat to the docks.

“Lindsay,” she answered, driving the tent stakes into the ground. “You?”

“My name’s Walt, and this is Bea,” said Walt. “We’re camping right over here.” He pointed to the woman, who was now setting up her own tent. With a smile, he waved. “Well, I gotta set up now! See ya later.” He waved and went to help Bea, which gave Lindsay the opportunity she needed. She called a taxi and headed for Sandy Shores.

 

* * *

 

 

Kerry wasn’t actually all that bad at flying a helicopter, and Geoff, for the first time since meeting Jack, was pleasantly surprised. He was sitting in the passenger seat, eyes closed, and hands behind his head. It was reasonable, then, that he didn’t notice Kerry reach under his seat and plant a bug. Once he was sure it was on, he glanced over to Geoff.

“Hey, Geoff?” he asked, biting his lip as they flew over the city.

“Sup, kid?” Geoff opened one eye and lazily yawned.

“So, uh… I left my notes in the planning room. Can you run me through it all again?” he sheepishly chuckled.

“Smooth, Kerry.” Geoff sat up straight. “Alright, so, when Michael and Gavin run into the Pacific Standard, you’ll fly me down low over the city and I’ll cover them out of the side. Then, once they’ve got the cash, we’ll land to pick up Ray and Ryan and fly them back to that car I just parked at the top of Chiliad. Then we fly to the rendezvous, and split the cash. Got it?”

“Got it, Geoff.” Kerry smiled, landing on a street where Michael and Gavin climbed into the back.

As soon as they were in, Kerry picked up and flew up towards the target, where Ray and Ryan waited with heavy weaponry.

Michael touched his finger to his ear. “Ready?”

Once he had the confirmation, he tapped the helicopter once and he and Gavin jumped out, parachuting down to the street level and immediately sprinting into the bank. Both of them drew handguns and started yelling before rounding the corner.

“EVERYBODY ON THE FUCKING GROU- What?” Michael dropped his gun as he saw the bank completely empty. That was… unfortunate. He looked to Gavin. “Let’s find the vault, maybe they left it open or we can crack it somehow!” For a good two minutes, the pair sprinted around the completely empty building until Gavin found the vault in the basement. It was impenetrable, and they didn’t have the right tools for the job. Outside, they could hear sirens.

“Why the toss are there sirens?” Gavin shouted, starting to run back outside.

“Is this a fucking sting? Oh, shit! Wait! Isn’t the bank closed on Wednesdays?” replied Michael. “We still need cash! Alright, everyone! We’ll hit the convenience store down the street!”

Gavin and Michael burst out into the street to see Ray and Ryan in a gunfight with about four police cruisers. Geoff hung out of the side of the chopper, supporting them from the air. On Michael’s signal, the crew covered each other and moved down the street. Ray and Ryan set up in a parking lot across from the convenience store as Gavin and Michael kicked in the door, holding the cashier at gunpoint and going through the usual motions.

In the parking lot outside, Ryan popped out from cover to attack for a while, but when he went back down to reload, a quick breeze caught his attention. The source of the breeze was a police helicopter bearing down on him. Before he could react, the police sniper in the helicopter shot him in the leg. Ryan pulled up his pistol and began rattling off shots as best he could, but it wasn’t long before the sniper’s next bullet put him out of commission.

Across the way, Ray witnessed Ryan’s death and yelled out.

“Ryan! No!!!” he hopped out from behind cover and sprayed like crazy with his machine gun, managing to take out the pilot of the helicopter. However, before the helicopter hit the ground, the surrounding police pumped the unfortunate Ray full of lead. His death yells rattled Kerry, but he kept flying.

Somehow, amidst the chaos, Michael and Gavin managed to make it back across the street under a hail of gunfire and each climbed into their own tank. Michael led the way, hauling ass for the subway. Gavin whooped and cheered.

“It’s like a movie, every single thing I do!” he shouted, blowing a helicopter out of the air.

Every cop in Los Santos was onto them at this point, and a good number were trying to stop them. However, they just weren’t equipped with the kind of hardware you need to take out two rampaging tanks. Kerry and Geoff watched the destruction from afar as they headed for the meetup spot.

 

* * *

 

 

Walt and Bea sat in their tent, laughing about some story about a crocodile or something. Suddenly, they heard a strange growling from outside. Walt went to check and found himself face to face with a bear. He screamed and grabbed Bea, leading her by the hand and sprinting towards the highway and safety from the bear. When they were gone, Lindsay took the head off her costume and smiled, picking up the portable speaker that was still playing bear noises. Now the crew didn’t have to worry about civilians. She went back to her own tent and went inside, looking up pictures of cats.

 

* * *

 

 

Michael and Gavin stopped their tanks at the end of the tunnel, jogging out and looking around for their bikes. They saw Gavin’s. Michael raised an eyebrow.

“Fuck, I forgot. It’s Los Santos, we can’t just leave bikes out! Of course the fucking thing got stolen! Whatever, I’ll run there. Gavin, get on your bike.” Michael groaned, starting to run for the nearest stairs down to the LS River. Gavin followed after on the bike, keeping a soft pedaling tempo behind Michael.

“Michael, should I do a cool BMX trick down to the boat?” asked Gavin, getting ready to try and slide down the stairs or something dumb.

“No. You’re gonna fucking snap your neck, dumbass. We’re trying to keep you alive,” Michael snapped, jogging down the stairs. He ran over to the boat, waiting for Gavin. As he looked over, he witnessed Gavin crashing into the bottom of the stairs at full speed, tumbling off the bike and into the river.

“God. Dammit.”

 

* * *

 

 

Kerry landed at the beach next to Lindsay’s tent and hopped out with Geoff, jogging over to the dock. There he saw… two identical boats. On a snap decision, he grabbed the one on the left, with Geoff getting in after him. The two of them pulled away as Lindsay stepped out of the tent, immediately realizing the problem in that they’d taken the wrong boat. Quickly she tried to wave them down, and then ran to her phone in the tent to text Michael. She moved a little too quickly, though, and tripped over the tent entrance to land squarely on the detonator, blowing up the boat anyway in a fireball that, while not as big as Gavin’s gas station, was quite impressive.

 

* * *

 

 

As Kerry and Geoff started panicking about the explosion, Michael and Gavin drove up alongside them and slowed down. This wasn’t part of the plan. Sure, Ray and Ryan were supposed to die, but so were Geoff and Kerry- or, well, Jack. He’d have to figure out what happened later. What mattered right now was making sure the money was split up. He waved to the other boat.

“Hey!” he called, motioning them over. “We’re gonna come over!”

Gavin piloted the boat closer and both Gavin and Michael hopped over to the other one. Michael pulled out the money and began splitting it up four ways, then heard a sinister click. One quick look up told him that Kerry had Gavin in a stranglehold and a gun to Geoff’s head.

“Kerry?” he asked, balling his hands into fists.

“Shut up, Michael! Give me the money!” he yelled, threatening the crew. Michael dropped the bag of money and nodded, kicking it over to Kerry. Once Kerry had it behind him, he put a bullet in Geoff’s skull and moved the gun towards Gavin, which was going to be his last mistake.

Michael surged forward and grabbed Gavin, overpowering Kerry to throw the Brit in the water. Now that he was out of the way, Michael could get to work. He grabbed Kerry’s wrist and punched him in the face, grappling the gun away from him. On paper, Michael could have thought of a one-liner, but killing Kerry was more important right now. Michael pressed the gun up against Kerry’s stomach and pulled the trigger, staring coldly as the new kid tumbled over the side of the boat and into the water. He took a deep breath, set down the pistol, then leaned over the other side of the boat and pulled a drenched Brit out of the water. While Gavin got back in the driver’s seat, Michael called Lindsay.

“Hey. Yeah, I think we pulled it off,” he stated. “Kerry killed Geoff and tried to betray us, so I had to take him out. No, no, we didn’t tell him about the box thing. Yeah. Dude’s dead. Sorry, Lindsay, but it had to be done. Alright, I’ll see you at home.” Michael hung up and shook his head. “Alright, Gav, take us back to the beach.” He sat down and pulled the money out of the bag.

“Looks like a fair take, boi,” commented Gavin.

“We’ve got enough to pay Burnie. And, well, it turns out I didn’t have to stage Ryan, Ray, Geoff, and Jack’s deaths.”

“What?”

“Nothing. Don’t worry about it.”

  
**TOTAL CREW DEBT: $2048.75**


End file.
